


Flesh and Bone

by Aladayle



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frisk, Cutting, Depressed Sans, Frisk is female here, Frisk talks...a lot, Multi, Post Pacifist-Ending, Sans Makes Puns, Tags will be added as situations arise, Talk of demons, gay friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladayle/pseuds/Aladayle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years since the monsters came out of the underground. After a series of accidents involving Sans and his moped, Papyrus bars him from driving of any kind and enlists Frisk to keep him off the road, but Frisk finds more problems than she bargains for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revoked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk makes a visit to spend some time making sure Sans doesn't drive.

### Revoked

 _What are you doing?_

_Maybe...maybe things will be different this time._

_Why are you doing this?_

* * *

"That you, Pap?" 

Sans looked up from the couch when he heard the door creak open, and squinted slightly when he saw the shadow. That wasn't Papyrus, he'd have been in the door and proclaiming his presence loudly. 

"Nope," came the feminine voice. 

"Kid?" He sat up on his elbows, and went silent when he saw Frisk walking in. 

She'd changed in the last five years. He could still remember; she looked the same from twelve to seventeen, only with height differences. Now, though... 

"You look like you're doing pretty good." 

"I had some vacation time," she said, smiling down at him. "And I thought I'd help Papyrus keep you out of trouble." 

"You've been spending too much time with Toriel, kid," he said as Frisk sat down next to him. "You don't need to mother me, you know." 

"Wouldn't Dreem-ur of it." 

"Heh...good one, kid." 

He rubbed his neckbone briefly before glancing over at her. _Again and again_ , he thought, _Doesn't matter when or where, she always shows up._

"So how long are you going to be here? I know you aren't that excited about Papyrus' cooking." 

"Oh...he's gotten better," Frisk said, "And just until you recover enough that he stops calling and asking me to come watch you." 

"It was just a broken bone or two." 

"Or two? That semi nearly took your leg off and into the next county. When are you going to learn to not drive that moped of yours on the highway?" 

"How'd you know it was that, huh? And besides..it's healed up. I guess you and Pap don't find this very humer-ous though." 

"Stop it, Sans. How is it you can keep getting hurt like this? We're all worried about you...or at least your driving skills, anyway." 

"I drive just fine." 

"Your last five accidents disagree with you." 

"Pap should know taking the key isn't going to do any good." 

"Which is why he hid the whole thing. If you need to go anywhere, I will be driving you." 

"Oh, yes, because a girl driving a skeleton around won't raise any eyebrows." 

"I think all the police around here know you by now. Now, before you--" 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Sans, this is not the time." 

"Do-nut you think I'm--" 

"Stop." Frisk crossed her arms and shook her head. "Look...it's either me, or Undyne. Do you really want Undyne to drive you around?" 

"Bone-ly if you want me to come home in pieces." 

"No. We don't want that. Papyrus would have our heads if anything happened to you." 

"I think you're going to find it's hard to--" 

"Don't." 

"--stay aHEAD of me." 

She couldn't help but laugh. "No, seriously. Undyne's been busy lately anyway, and I've had a lot of time off to work with. If you make me interrupt her schedule, she's going to make you miserably happy." 

"Kid, do you know what I--" He paused briefly, and looked as her face went momentarily blank, before coming gradually back into the smile it was previously wearing. "You know what, fine. You want to sit around and watch me sit around, be my guest." 

"So that's a no to you needing to go anywhere, then." 

"Yes." 

"So yes, no?" 

"Yes, no." 

"Which is it?" 

"Yes." 

"Yes, yes, or yes, no." 

"Yes, as in no." 

Frisk shook her head and shuffled through her purse. "I swear, you get more outrageous with these puns every time I meet you...I feel sorry for Papyrus, he must be bone-tired of them by--" 

Sans couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. The exasperated look Frisk was giving him just made it worse, and it was several minutes before he could bring himself out of the fit of uncontrollable chortling. "You know, you should do that more often, kid." 

"I'll have plenty of time to, I guess." She shook her head and headed into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" 

The shelves had a surprisingly diverse selection of boxed food, but she wasn't particularly feeling like boiling or mixing anything. The freezer...ah, yes. Microwave burritos. An addition of Sans', she could only guess. She was pulling the box out when suddenly, she cringed and dropped the whole thing, scattering its plastic-wrapped inhabitants all over the floor. Shakily, she started picking them all back up. 

_Not right now._

"You okay in there?" 

"I'm fine. You had the box sitting open."

"Bit red-eyed there, kid. Don't tell me you're out there working hard all day just to make me look bad?" 

"Lots to do," she replied, rubbing her eyes, "Like watching over certain skeletons who never met a no-passing lane they didn't like. I'll probably have a nap later." 

"You're staying here? Did Papyrus...?" 

"He wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." 

_Of course he wouldn't_ , Sans thought. "Well, mi casa es su casa, then." 

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." 

"Easy to pick up here and there." 

_**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK** _.__

"Undyne," they both said at once. 

"I'll go get it before she busts it down," Frisk said quickly.


	2. Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne and Alphys visit, and Papyrus finds that something's gone missing.

### Thief

"Oh hey, Und--" 

She jumped back suddenly as a spear crashed into the ground in front of her. 

"WHY HAVEN'T YOU CALLED?"

"I-I've been busy...?" 

"Undyne! Y-you know you said you'd t-try not to do that anymore outside our house! It scares people!" Alphys appeared with a start from behind Undyne and raised her hands. 

"But she--!" 

"You promised! S-say you're sorry, you scared the heck out of her!"

"...fine. I'm sorry." 

The two of them walked in and took a seat on the loveseat perpendicular to the sofa Sans was stretched out on. 

"So...how's things?" Sans asked. "How's the UFC treating you, Undyne?" 

"I'm a few matches away from the title, that's how it's treating me! My coach says my striking's good, but I need to work on submissions...I prefer to stand and face someone. Submissions just...seem weird, but they win matches." 

"She's right about that," Frisk said, "You wouldn't get paid if all you did was hit people." 

"S-so how are you doing?" Alphys asked, looking to Sans. "I heard you almost died again." 

"Yeah. Nothing new," Sans replied, shrugging. 

"Y-you really should be more careful. Y-your brother's really worried about you." 

"Like I said, nothing new." 

"What _is_ Papyrus up to, anyway?" Undyne asked. 

"Oh, you know," Frisk said, "He's busy with _Bones and Brioche_. It's amazing how fast the viewership has gone up on it." 

"Well, h-he has got Mettaton helping him. Having the network owner personally endorse y-your show never hurts. How about you, Frisk? Anything new with you?" 

"No, I can't say that there is. The books are selling pretty well, and I have about the same amount of free time as I always have." 

"Yet you're wasting it on me," Sans said, giving a weak laugh and sitting back up. "You honestly don't have anything better to do?" 

"Nope. You're stuck with me." she laughed, "What about you, Alphys? How's the manga business treating you?" 

"P-pretty good. Turns out a story about a robot seeking love is v-very popular..." 

"That's good, really, I'm happy for you." 

* * *

The talk went on for several hours and through even more rounds of Frisk bringing in coffee, until Alphys reminded Undyne that it was time to be getting home. They left in a red hybrid car with too many bumper stickers to count, and just like that, Frisk was alone with Sans again. 

"Well...that sure moved quickly," Frisk laughed as she got up and headed into the kitchen again. "I'd forgotten what it was like having them over." 

"Yeah, you have kind of been avoiding a few of us lately," Sans said, "Something going on I should know about? Or someone?" 

"Oh, no, I've just been...busy. Toriel's been keeping an eye on me, doesn't she talk to you much anymore?" 

"Nah...I guess her work's kind of consumed her. You know how she is." 

"You're right...it's about that time, did you want any--" 

"Brother! I'm home!" 

Frisk looked up with a smile as Papyrus walked through the door. 

"Oh! You're here already! Good, I'm glad to see you again by the way Frisk, I could use some help keeping this disaster off the road. I don't know how he does it. I tried hiding the keys but that obviously wasn't working, so..." 

"Pap," Sans said, "Try to remember that you haven't seen her in a while." 

"Oh...right, I was too busy worrying about you to have manners. Sorry about that, Frisk. He wasn't too much trouble, was he?" 

"He's never much bother." 

"Well, I hope you're both hungry," Papyrus said, moving into the kitchen with his customary grin, "I found a new spaghetti recipe today, and I just know you're both going to love it!" 

"Pap, I don't think..." 

"You never think!" 

Silence. 

Frisk shook her head. The bickering was what it had always been, but it didn't look as if-- 

"Sans! Where did you put it?" 

"Put what?" 

"My chef's knife!" 

"Why would I take that?" 

"I don't know...you do weird things! Now tell me where it is!" 

"I'll help you find it," Frisk said, "You probably just...didn't put it away right!" 

"I _always_ put my knives away right!" 

As they were resorting the silverware drawer and getting ready to go through the utensil drawer, Sans wandered in and took one of the ketchup bottles from the fridge. 

"Sans, I said I was cooking dinner, can't you wait?" Papyrus asked. 

"It might take you a while...I'm just tiding myself over." Sans shrugged as he left, and took a swig from the bottle. 

"I think his problem's more than the driving," Frisk said, "Is he doing okay?" 

"He's the same as always, that's what I don't understand. I don't know, maybe he just misses Snowdin...?" 

"Maybe he just needs company. He's alone all day, right?" 

"I try to keep him busy, but...yes, he is alone most of the day." Papyrus seemed to pause and then said, "I'm glad you're here, he always talked more when you were around. I'm actually starting to _miss_ the constant stream of puns." 

"No matter how tired you were of them before?" 

"Right." 

* * *

Dinner went about as well as could be expected. The spaghetti had, surprisingly, turned out to be pretty good, and there had been a pleasant enough evening dominated mostly by Papyrus' raving about how many viewers his show was getting, and how pleased Mettaton was with the whole situation, and how much help he'd been, and... 

It was well after midnight by the time they all went to bed. Sans, however... 

...was laying awake. 

Nowadays he seemed to have nothing but trouble sleeping, and it was the exception when he actually got a full night's worth. He was heading for the living room hoping he could get better sleep on the couch when the bathroom door opened as he passed it. 

Frisk was walking out, tugging at her sleeves. "Oh...Sans, I didn't realize you were up." 

"Couldn't sleep. You?" 

"Stomach trouble," she replied quickly, "Has this been happening a lot? Have you tried taking a walk or anything like that?" 

"Sometimes," he shrugged, "Nothing really helps, though, I have to wait it out."

Frisk seemed to smile vaguely, but shook her head and turned back down the hall, stopping just before she opened the door to her room. "If you need to talk, you know where to find me." 

For just a second, she stopped, her hand jerking briefly on the doorknob. 

"Okay, kiddo. And if you want to talk, you know where to find me."


	3. Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having someone else there makes things both more easy and more difficult.

### Fountain

_The empty bottles were kicked aside as the child walked out the back door, swinging the new knife around. It was the only present ever gotten from the alcohol-obsessed father and it was far too big for the child. But that wasn't what mattered; it was still an immediately-treasured gift._

 _The child swung it around and cut some of the tall grass around one of the bushes before stumbling back at the sight of another...well, it wasn't another kid, or was it? It was kind of shadow-y._

_"Hello."_

_"H-hi. Who're you?"_

_"A kid like you."_

_"Nu-uh, you're...you're different. I know it."_

_"Kids are always smarter than grown-ups, aren't they?" the voice was...weird, but the idea was brushed aside in favor of further study._

_"Do you want to play? I just got a new knife."_

_"I don't want to play. You know what I want to do?"_

_"What else is there to do but play out here?"_

_"Talk. It won't take long. And I can help you."_

_"You can?"_

_"'ey, you worthless brat, get back in here with that knife, you'll cut your arm wide open! Why your father gave it to you, I have no idea, just...get inside with it. It's not a kiddie toy!" The mother opened the back door only enough to be heard._

_"I can make that go away."_

_"I knew you weren't a kid. Kids can't do magic like that."_

_"Do you want me to help?" the shadow tilted its head._

_The child looked away as the mother's voice rang out again. She was just as bad..._

_"Do you?"_

_"Yes. But how can you help? You can't magic someone away."_

_"Would you like a real family? One where the mother is good to you and feeds you on time? Where the father doesn't drink?"_

_"Y-you can get me a family like that? Really?"_

_"Of course I can. I can do anything. But you know you have to give me something in return, right?"_

_"What do you want?"_

_"Something you don't even use."_

* * *

"Come on, Sans, time to get up."

"It's only noon."

"First of all, you don't work second shift, you aren't a kid during summer vacation, and you don't have kids or pets to take care of. Noon is not an acceptable time to wake up anyway."

Sans laughed and went limp. 

"This is not the time to play cat!" Frisk groaned and grabbed hold of his arm to pull him up--just in time for the rest of him to become dead weight.

"Maybe I want to be a cat. Maybe I have unrecognized species dysphoria."

"Sans, come on."

"What's the problem, anyway? It's not like you _have_ to take me with you."

"Quit fooling around. Besides, I don't really remember the stores around here that well. I need you to be my navigator."

"Open door. Proceed out door. Turn left. Turn--" 

"I said navigator, not GPS. Come on now, you need to get out of the house, it'll be good for you." She spoke quickly as she tried to get Sans to his feet. "Sans, I swear to the gods..." 

"Maybe I just don't want to deal with shopping around humans? The staring gets unnerving. And besides--" 

Frisk sighed and (adjusting her purse) started to drag him towards the door. 

"Kid, people might get the wrong idea, a girl drags a skeleton out the front door." 

"The neighbors already know you're lazy and don't move around much, they'll probably--" 

"--probably think you're a girlfriend or something. It'd be a good idea to put me down. You don't want them thinking that, do you? Toriel'd have my hide. Don't you know when to quit?" 

"I'm grown up, Toriel wouldn't care. Now come--on!" Frisk groaned and continued the pattern of pulling Sans a foot or two, stopping to rest, and then continuing. 

Once they were at the door, she stopped to breathe. Sans fell with a groan, but quickly got to his feet. "See, I knew you...kid?" 

She'd just...stopped. 

Staring at nothing. 

"You okay there?" He waved a bony hand in front of her face. 

"Yeah...yeah, I just...I don't feel good all of a sudden. Go...sit back down on the couch, alright? I need to go to the bathroom." 

"See, you overdid it. Do you need me to--" 

"No, no, I have the..." she rubbed her forehead, and took a deep, shaky breath. "There's some anti-nausea pills in the medicine cabinet, but...thanks. For caring, I mean." 

Sans shook his head and watched her hurry down the hall...not straight into the bathroom. She went to her room, and _then_ the bathroom a minute or so later. 

Huh. 

And then she didn't come out for another twenty minutes, went to her room _again_ before finally coming back to the living room. 

"Ready to go?" he asked. 

"I thought you didn't want to?" 

"Eh, I changed my mind, you're right. I probably should go out. If you're still up for it after getting sick and all." He glanced up at her face and noticed that aside from her pupils being oddly dilated, she was a bit pale, too. "I mean, you don't look well." 

"No, I'm fine, really. Now let's get going." 

"If you say so. You're the boss." 

* * *

A few hours later they returned. Frisk was carrying a few bags, but Sans had apparently decided to show off (or maybe he just wanted to not make two trips, she didn't know) by using magic to carry all but one of the rest. 

"You'd better not drop the eggs," she said, glancing back at him, "I'm making omelettes for dinner." 

"I'll make sure to be eggs-tra careful." 

She laughed, and stood holding the door open with her elbow. "C'mon, Sans. Stop fooling around and let's get the stuff inside." 

"Sure thing." Sans put the one bag he was actually physically carrying down. 

"You'd better not." 

He grinned, and it floated off the ground like the rest, following him into the house. "Look, ma, no hands!" 

"Sans!" She couldn't help but laugh, though, and giggled for a few minutes as she started putting things away. 

"Looks like you're feeling better now, huh, kid?" 

"Yeah...see, being around you is good for my health!" 

"Hey, I thought I was the one telling jokes here!" 

"Silly skeleton," she replied with a laugh, "My determination will best you yet! Just watch!" 

"...she said, as she put eggs delicately into the fridge, one by one. I might as well give up now!" 

"Sans--" 

"Aye, the fearsome maid has pierced my--" 

"Sans..." 

"--heart, and I bleed red, but lo! It is not blood I see--" 

"Sans!" 

"What?" 

"You're monologing into a banana." Frisk wanted to be annoyed, really she did, but she couldn't help laughing once again. 

"I guess it's time for my act to split then."


	4. The Music That Might Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk tries asking Sans out, and an impulsive moment causes quite a scare for her. Sans is beginning to wonder--what's wrong with her?

### The Music That Might Play

_"You can't give up."_

_"It's too late. I already have." The small figure cringed. "I don't want to do it."_

_"I can help you...but you're going to have to try. Try like you haven't since you got here."_

_"I am! But it...it... **do you think it will be that easy, you ridiculous funny-bone?**_ " 

* * *

Two weeks went by in what Sans would acknowledge only to himself as "great." Frisk was an eager talker, and though he was loathe to admit it, he liked the fact that he wasn't going to be alone all day. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to it, exactly. It was just...well, he didn't know what it was anymore.

The stifling cycle had ended, but the weight was still there. Try as he might, he couldn't just claw out of it and stay afloat with jokes; that wasn't enough anymore. But then _she_ was there, with that wonderful smile and those warm hands, and everything seemed alright again. It was that determination, he thought. She had this attitude sometimes like she wanted to save the world.

Well, she'd already saved one.

"Sans? Go into the pipe already!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, kid. Just thinking." Sans shook his head and picked up his controller, then glanced back up to the screen. Frisk, as Peach, had already gone down a clear pipe and was waiting for him, as Luigi, to do so as well.

"Oh, really, about what?"

"Eh, lots of stuff. Not being able to drive kind of limits what I can do."

"Yeah, because Papyrus--Sans, watch out for the goomba--is worried about you, you know. So am I. I would've come back sooner if I'd known you were having this much trouble."

"You know, you don't have to worry about me. No one does. I can get on well enough on my own."

"Sans, it's just...look, I...aw, crap, lost the cat suit..."

"You should've paid attention. Those goombas'll really _scratch_ you up."

"Yeah, but they're the ones that'll be getting the fever." Frisk replied.

"C'mon, _kitten_ , take it seriously. See, like me, I got to the next--"

"But _Tom_..."

"Who's Tom? Somebody I should know about?"

"What, doesn't it _ring any bells_ , Sans?"

There was a pause as each looked at the other in utter silence. There was the sudden sound of death from the television, and they burst out laughing. It went on for a good few minutes, and even as they were calming down, giggles persisted.

"Been a while since I made anyone laugh like that," Sans said, "Got used to belly-aching and groans, and..."

"We all think you're funny, though. You should make a job out of it. Get on Youtube, or something."

Sans just shook his head and as he was about to speak again--

 _Grumble_.

"Oops. Sorry," Frisk said, turning a bit red, "I didn't eat breakfast."

"We could always go see how Grillby's doing."

"That sounds wonderful. We haven't had a date in...gosh, forever."

"...what?"

"Oh...come on, you took me to a place you hang out a lot, covered my food, and then got me into a really nice place and it was candlelit...what did you think they were?"

"Er," Sans was turning blue, "Er, I didn't...didn't think they were..."

"Were what?" she smiled.

"I didn't think those were dates."

"Have you not been on a date before?"

"Not a whole lot, no," he replied quickly.

"Well, since those didn't count, why don't we go out now?"

"Look, kid, you really don't have to--"

"I want to. Why not?"

Frisk shrugged, "You know, I can return the favor. You took me someplace nice, I can take you someplace nice."

"Yeah, but suppose somebody sees us..." 

"Like who?" She asked, leaning closer. 

The blue spots under his eyesockets spread a bit wider. It was like a really cold blush, she thought. 

"Like...I don't know, Toriel, or something. I don't feel like getting _grilled_ , you know." 

"She's more likely to see us in Grillby's than anywhere else you know," Frisk said, in a sugary tone Sans was sure he hadn't heard her use before. 

"Look, I just don't want any--" 

He stopped cold when she kissed him, and cringed briefly, his left eye bursting into its blue color just from the sudden movement. He'd forgotten how much that sort of thing from her scared him... 

Well, it wasn't really a proper kiss, it was more like Frisk'd pressed her lips quite firmly to that spot just between his nose and his teeth. Still, though, it qualified as one, and she seemed eager, so he didn't stop her. But when she pulled back and saw his eye still glowing, she stopped. 

"I'm sorry," she said, getting up, "I'm so sorry." 

"Kid, look, if--" 

"No, no, you..." Frisk backed away as he got to his feet. "I won't do it again." She turned and ran back to her room at that, and as Sans calmed down, his mind was spinning. Not just from the kiss (even though that was a heck of a lot to take in. Who knew she liked him enough to do that?), but also from that sudden panic of hers. Had it triggered her somehow? Did the sight of his eye scare her that much? 

He stood thinking about this for a few minutes before heading down the hallway towards her room. Alright, he knew how to apologize. It was easy, you just said you were sorry for whatever it was you'd done. Even though he wasn't sure (well, he was _kind of_ sure, but he'd just make the apology a little longer, and things'd be okay. 

"Kid?" he knocked on the door. 

"G...go away." 

There was a creak, and the sound of wood scraping against wood. 

"Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry." 

"You di--nngh--dn't do anything wrong. It's...okay." Frisk's voice was halting, as if something was making her stop and start again. 

"Look, do I have to come in there? You don't sound like you're doing so good." 

"Don't," came the quick reply, "Just...just go back and reset the level. I'll be out in a minute." 

"Fine." 

Sans hung around outside, and heard what sounded like little grunts of pain. He shifted and the floorboard squeaked, and he heard the sounds stop. 

Hmm. 

As he walked into the bathroom, thinking on this a bit more, he took a quick shower (oddly, it was one of the things he actually kept up with. He didn't want to smell himself if he could help it.) and as he was getting out his eye-sockets happened to glance over the little trashcan by the toilet. 

Huh. Bloody tissue paper. But then, human women did... 

Wait a minute. 

The tissues had shown up _last week_ too. And when she had first shown up, and he was pretty sure that the cycles only lasted a week--most of the time, less than that. 

"Kid, what the hell are you up to?" he said under his breath. 

He stood contemplating for a minute before Frisk's voice snapped him out of it. 

"Sans? Are you almost done in there? I kind of need to go." 

"Sure. Sorry, bit of a long shower." 

"Yeah, I...I heard the water going for a while, and..." 

He opened the door, casting a searching glance over her face. 

It was blank, almost expressionless, but with just the tiniest hint of...relief? It wasn't the happy sort, but it was obvious that she was settling down from something. 

"You don't look so good." 

"More nausea," Frisk said, rushing past him and into the bathroom. "I'll be fine." 

_Nausea my ass-bone_ , Sans thought.


	5. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sans' weight is lifting, but he finds another to worry about.

### Distraction

_ You can't save everyone! _

_I can. Watch me. I can help you. I can help both of you._

_**Oh, do try...please do try. I've been so bored for so long...** _

_ After all I've done, you'd still try...? _

_Somebody has to do it. And that somebody is me._

* * *

Sans had, for once, gone to his own bed in his own room. The results were still the same, though--he'd not been able to sleep for a while, had woken up about five hours later, and rubbed his eyesockets wearily. He was still exhausted, but his head was somehow determined not to go back to sleep.

He stepped out of the room and had just gone past the door of Frisk's room when he heard a soft voice. It took him a minute to realize that it was her.

" _Hill and dale in slumber sleeping, I my loved ones' watch am keeping, all through the night..._ "

He'd heard that one before, ages and ages ago. A book of nursery rhymes had washed up and been passed around all the families. Not that he'd had it sung to him, of course.

Then he heard another, obviously younger voice. "I want to hear something different."

"You promised!" said a third voice. "She always sings this one. I like it."

"I want a story."

If Sans had had any eyebrows, they'd definitely have been raised.

The third voice stopped. "What about a story with a song in it?"

Sans stood listening to this for several minutes before walking into the kitchen and getting one of his larger microwavable burritos. Alright, so she was fine this time. But then, she was talking to whatever-they-were. But then there was that sound she made now and again, with the door closed, like she was in pain...

He reached for a knife to cut the burrito in half, and remembered the knife that was still missing. Papyrus had gone out and bought another chef's knife. On a whim, Sans drew it out of the block.

Chilled to the bone? Was that how he'd put it?

This was it. This was the knife. Well, not really. It wasn't the _exact_ same knife.

But looking at it...he just had that feeling. Something was wrong. Something was...

He noticed Frisk leaving her room when he walked into the living room with the plate. She went...right into the bathroom. Hmm.

Either she hadn't gone to bed or she had started to sleep like he had--fitfully.

"Sans!" 

He looked up and saw Papyrus holding a laundry hamper. "I'm doing a load, give me your jacket. That thing needs to be washed. 

"What, you want me to be practically naked in front of our guest? We'd _barely_ \--" 

"SANS! My god! Why don't you wear that nice sweater Toriel gave you if you're so worried? It's just been sitting in your closet since last Christmas!" 

"Fine," Sans replied, stripping off his coat, tossing it at the hamper, and... 

Missing by a mile. It landed completely backwards with the hood over Papyrus's head. 

"You did that ON PURPOSE, Sans! Ugh. Do me a favor, though, go into Frisk's room and bring her clothes out." 

"Why don't you get 'em?" 

"Because you need to get up and do something today! Now go!" Papyrus 'hmphed' and headed down the basement steps a minute later. 

Shaking his head, Sans walked back and stepped into Frisk's room, more to satisfy his own curiosity than to bother about her dirty clothes. He looked around and found that everything was fairly neat. There was a small digital photo frame on the bedtable that cycled through a bunch of pictures, most of them featuring her with Toriel, some having her with Asgore, and a rare one on occasion that had all three. As he dragged the hamper from the corner, he looked at it again. It was now going through some photos he could remember taking with her at her high school graduation. 

He took the hamper out of the room just as Papyrus was coming back up the stairs--and handed it over with a wide grin. 

Papyrus looked immediately suspicious, and as he headed back for the basement door started rummaging one-handed through the hamper, convinced that Sans had done something to it. 

_Creak_. 

Sans looked down and shifted his foot a bit. The floorboard creaked again. 

He didn't squint very often. This was one of those times. 

As he was bending over to get a better look at the floorboard, Frisk called out from the bathroom. 

"Sans? Can you bring one of my shirts? I kinda...forgot to grab one." 

"Sure," he replied. He opened the closet and grabbed a T-shirt at random, then headed out into the hall to hand it to her through the crack she'd opened in the bathroom door. 

"Can you get my bathrobe too?" 

"Geez, kid, what am I? Your butler?" 

"Sorry." she said, before adding quickly, "Please?" 

"I would, but it's in the wash. You know how tidy Papyrus likes to keep things." 

"...can I borrow your jacket, then?" 

"It's been slain in the name of cleanliness," he replied, "What, is it too cold out here for you or something?" 

"Well, yes, but...I...can you just bring me something with long sleeves?" 

"Sorry, kid. We're a sleeve-free household." 

Sans moved away from the door, though not fast enough to avoid hearing a half-whispered, " _Damn it_." 

He sat in one of the easy chairs in the living room, and glanced out of the corner of his eye as she left the bathroom--fully dressed, of course, but with her arms folded. Zipped right into her room, too... 

Maybe this was a chance... 

He walked to the edge of the living room and after pausing a moment in heavy concentration (which was longer than five seconds anymore) he floated up and right to Frisk's door. Oh yeah, stealth mode. And Papyrus had always said he'd never get the hang of it. 

"...it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. _It's going to be okay._." 

There was that sound of wood scraping against wood again. 

"Don't cry. It's alright." 

What in the hell...? 

"Don't cry... _nngh..._ " 

A pause. 

"See...see, I told you. I told you it would be alright." 

His eye glowed briefly, and he moved into the room. Into the closet, of course. He didn't want her to know he was watching just yet. It made him glad that the teleporting was something he'd kept up on. Thank goodness for traditional closet doors. 

"Curly locks, curly locks..." 

She was dragging the tip of the knife--that knife! The chef's knife that had gone missing!--down her arm. Not too deeply, but still deep enough that there was blood. 

Sans was about to throw the door open and demand to know what was going on, but as soon as that thought crossed his mind-- 

Her skin blinked. There was no other way for him to describe it. 

"Don't cry," she said. 

Her eyes were completely dry. Who was she--? 

"I told you I'd protect you, didn't I?" For all the pain Frisk appeared to be in, she looked...oddly serene. The tone and the content were completely out of whack. 

Again she dragged the knife down her arm, and through the trickles of blood Sans could see other scars. Some more recent. Some... 

Oh, gods. 

He knew what was going on now. 

_**I know you're there**_...


	6. Puddleglum

### Puddleglum

 _Let go of her_ , he thought, his eye bursting into color.

**_Why would I do that? She let me in, I have every right to be here._ **

Frisk continued cutting, unaware of this supposed conversation. But Sans noticed that as he talked to...whatever it was, that she was slowing down. The distraction of pain was lessening the thing's hold on her.

_Answer me this: why did she let you in?_

**_I have something she wants._ **

_What do you have that she wants?_

**_Come now, skelly. You know it doesn't work that way. I can't just give information away for free._ **

_We got rid of you!_

" _When the blazing sun is gone, when he nothing shines upon_..." Frisk went back to singing at that, and on the edge of hearing, Sans could barely catch--

Whimpering. But it wasn't hers.

"It's going to be okay." She was speaking so robotically. 

How many times had she done this before?

**_I don't know, skelly. How high can you count?_ **

But the voice was growing weaker, and after making jabs at him a few more times, it quieted entirely.

"See...I told you. The nasty thing is gone."

He kept watching. Frisk herself didn't appear to have any idea that he was there.

All this going on...all this, and she still came back over worry about him? If he didn't know any better, he'd think that she was...nah, that couldn't be it. A childish crush once upon a time, maybe. She used to call him a hero, but when he'd asked why she said that, she could never explain why, "she just knew."

He supposed that made sense. Frisk didn't seem to remember what happened before the reset. But after it...it'd been like she'd lit a fire under herself...

After a pause, she stopped and went over her arm with a washcloth. Sans took the opportunity to look at the scars again. They were on both arms, and as he saw before, some were obviously older, some younger, and some looked like old ones she'd opened again. How the hell had she kept this from everyone? How had Toriel not noticed?

But, no, the logical side of him batted back, it would be easy to hide something like this from Toriel, especially during the teenage years. 'I have a ton of homework,' needing privacy in the bathroom. As nice as she was, she was just a little bit naive. Of course, on the other hand, she might have noticed something, but...

Frisk started to put the knife away and he moved to the hallway, not really eager for inconvenient questions. He wanted to bust in there and ask questions, actually sit her down and demand to know what the hell she thought she was doing, but it was fairly obvious that that wasn't going to be helpful. Especially right now. He could be of help, he'd just have to be smart about it.

He went back to the living room and switched on the TV (he did all his best thinking with background noise), and after half an hour of news, Frisk emerged from the back hallway, went to the kitchen, and took a seat beside him with a couple granola bars in her lap.

"What're you watching?" she asked.

"Oh, uh..." he looked up at the TV and shook his head, "Just...Mettaton's Trans-formation segment on his talk show."

"Oh, that's right..." she smiled, "I love that show. Of course, he would be the kind of a person to help others have the body they've always wanted."

This time it was a young woman. The before pictured showed a highschool football player, very buff guy. The woman before them now was still of an athletic build, but far more comfortable in her skin. Mettaton talked extensively with her about the difficulty of the change, the lack of support from the young woman's family, and the peace of seeing in the mirror what she'd seen in her head all her life.

Frisk sat with him watching it, and eating the granola bars in silence. Once she'd finished them, he asked, "You look pale, are you alright, kid?"

"I'm fine. Just...hungry, that's all. What about you, though? You look better than you have in a while."

"It's the company," Sans replied, "Got used to being alone, so I guess I got...weird."

"You worried people, Sans. I mean, getting hit by a car or a truck once would be one thing. But that many times? If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to kill yourself."

"Kid...I think you think about death too much."

"Am I...dead to you?" She saw him smile, and smiled back.

"If you were any more alive you'd be--"

"Sans, you lazybones," came a voice behind the couch.

"Papyrus, it's not nice to spy on people. How long've you been there?" Frisk asked.

"I only just got here. Were you two doing something you weren't supposed to be doing?"

"No, of course not."

"Good, because you know I wouldn't hesitate to let Toriel know if anything...untoward...was happening."

"Like what?" Sans asked, laughing briefly, "Papyrus, we're watching tv on the sofa. Nothing else."

"Yes, well, she's quite young, and she likes you for some reason, and...things happen. I will not have canoodling in this house! ...or at least on this couch, anyway."

"Right, because you can hardly have fun with Me--"

"SANS I SWEAR TO GOD!"

"Let's just be nice, alright?" Frisk said, "Nothing was happening, Papyrus."

"Yes, but--"

"Nothing will happen. You don't have to worry. We weren't kissing or anything. Why would you think we were, anyway?"

"Well, you're young, and my brother is...Sans...and..." 

"And he's a ladies' man, is that it?" 

"Well, no, but-" 

"You don't have to worry, Papyrus," Frisk cut in quickly, waving one hand, "Really, what kind of a guy do you think he is? He's not interested in me anyway!" 

"And you know this...how?" Papyrus looked suddenly suspicious. 

"I know because he hasn't done anything. I don't know why you're so fixated on this, anyway..." 

"Pap, if you're trying to play matchmaker, you should choose a more likely pair." Sans quipped. 

"I am not trying to--oh, nevermind. We've been invited out, by the way. This evening." 

"By who?" Frisk asked. 

"Er, well, Mettaton. He heard you were here and wanted to see everyone again, and I didn't want to leave Sans by himself, and--" 

"Papyrus, is this a double date?" 

"No! It's not!" 

"Yeah, because all those times you came home late with MTT #7 lipstick all over your face _proves_ that nothing's going on, right?" Sans laughed. 

"The _kiss_ of death to his little white lie, huh?" Frisk couldn't help but giggle. 

"I'm not lying! He didn't ask me out! I--you...look, just get ready, alright? Put on something nice, Sans. I got you some good clothes, now wear them!" 

"Fine, fine!" Sans grumbled as Papyrus left the room, "Well, kid, looks like you and I are part of someone else's plot." 

"We'll just have to pretend like we barely know each other," she shrugged. "We're just friends after all, right?" 

"Right."


	7. Act Your Age

### Act Your Age

"Oh, darling, it's wonderful to see you!"

Frisk cringed only a little as Mettaton's tight hug squeezed most of the air out of her, and looked up with a slight smile once the tall robotic man had stepped back. "It has been a while...I would ask if you were well, but I think that much is obvious."

"And you. I've heard you're doing fairly well yourself. And so well dressed. Is my handsome little Papyrus responsible for this?"

She didn't have to turn--she could practically _hear_ Papyrus blush.

"No, well, not this time, anyway. She has--she brought her own things."

"Yes, keeping an eye on the little funnybone," Mettaton cast a wicked, gleeful sort of glance at Frisk, who looked away. "And Sans, it's good to see you out of the house. Last I heard you weren't doing well. Perhaps she should have come by sooner."

"You guys worry about me too much," Sans said.

"Alright, table for four, right?" The host stepped up, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Dear, you know those are bad for you."

"Oh, hey, boss. S'not lit, don't worry. Alright, so if you'll come with me..."

It wasn't until they were seated that Frisk (who found herself on one side of the table with Sans) spoke again. "He seems a lot...different. Mellower. What'd you do to him?"

"Oh," Mettaton said absently, "Turns out he flourishes in this position. Still doesn't quite know what to do with himself, you know, but he's a natural. And he _hates_ being so good at it."

"At least it's a job, right?"

"Right!" Papyrus said, "He's got something to do."

"Not everyone can be as happy with what they do as you are, my _dear_ little--"

"Please, not in front of the human!"

"There are _plenty_ of humans here, or didn't you notice?" Mettaton purred, leaning closely to Papyrus. "You don't have to be so worried..."

"Come on, you two," Sans said, "We're in mixed company here."

"I don't think she minds. You could always--"

As if by magic, Sans' phone started ringing.

"Sans!" Papyrus barked, "I told you not to bring your phone in here. That's incredibly rude to--"

"Sorry, Pap, I thought it was off." Sans pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced over it before rejecting the call. "Continue."

"Oh no you don't. We're going to take that thing out to the car and LEAVE IT THERE. I can't believe you'd--"

And with that, Papyrus stepped up, grabbed Sans by the wrist, and hauled him outside.

Frisk sighed.

"You don't look well, you know."

"I'm not."

"Is he not responding to your advances?"

There was a pause. Frisk'd been trying to keep that bit of news under wraps, but Mettaton, like Toriel, had a way of seeing right through things. Mostly. He was also someone she could get advice from on the...finer points of interacting with someone romantically. It seemed like she was a natural at being the pursuer...none of the relationships had gone anywhere, but at least they'd been fun.

"I tried kissing him and all he could do was act shocked. And not really in a pleasant way..." she sighed, changing the subject after the host brought the drinks and left, "I never did pick up his name. Everyone just called him Burgerpants. Sometimes I think I'd have an easier time going out with him than Sans."

"Oh, trust me, you don't want to do that. He's what you'd call a one-hit wonder."

"A...what?"

"A one-pump chump. You know."

"What do you...oh my god, why would you even..." Frisk groaned. "Seriously, my mind's not even anywhere near that! And how do you know, anyway?"

"Going rumor. He's had a few flings. Broken a few hearts. But back to your little bone problem...what's the harm in trying again?"

"He still sees me as that kid that walked into Snowdin. I don't think there's any way I can change that."

Mettaton grinned. "You could always do a Drew Barrymore."

"No. No. No. Just _no_. Look, they're coming back, just..."

"My lips are sealed. But if you ask me, you could use my help getting into the bone zone."

"You're getting as bad as him with the puns."

"The difference is, my puns do not make your heart warm. His do." Again, that almost irritating sentimental tone.

Papyrus and Sans took their seats.

"Well," Papyrus said, "Now that his phone--"

"--and yours." Sans added.

"Are...is gone, we can behave like proper people."

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful. Mettaton had many questions for everyone, but they all at least enjoyed the meal with no further awkwardness. The trip back home, on the other hand...

"So," Sans asked, looking up at Frisk from the back seat, "What'd the bucket o' bolts have to say to you while we were outside?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied, "Just inquiring about some of my decisions."

"Yeah? What're you deciding, to get restocked on your sweaters, and he thought that might be a bad fashion decision?"

"No, just trying to give me advice. You know how he can be."

"If he's giving advice," Papyrus said, "I'd listen. He does pretty well at it."

"And at a few other things, am I right?" Sans laughed.

"SANS! NOT WHILE I'M DRIVING!"

Frisk just shook her head. "I'm afraid his advice isn't going to help. Yes, I know Mettaton means well, but he just--PAPYRUS, THAT'S A RED LIGHT!"

Thankfully, they managed to swerve and avoid the other car, but not without the driver giving Papyrus the finger.

"Well if Sans wouldn't keep making jokes while I'm trying to drive, I'd be able to pay better attention to the road!"

"Pap, you're sounding a bit stressed. Maybe you should take a nap when we get back?" Sans queried.

"I guess I will. Fine."

Once they got back, Papyrus went off to his room and Frisk decided to sit up a bit watching TV. Sans made excuses about being tired, and headed back to his; but teleported to the kitchen once his door had shut. 

He wondered if the slight stresses of the evening would have done much to that...thing. Was the cutting a nightly occurence? Well, no, he reasoned--it couldn't be. She'd be scarred in more places...but then again, he had no idea if she was cutting elsewhere; he'd only seen her take the knife to her wrist. And then there was the question of just how long she'd been carrying that thing. The most reasonable option seemed to suggest that it had been since she fell into the Underground, but...she'd barely handled it even then.

...and he'd...helped her out a bit on that. Quite a bit, actually, enough that it had taken a lot out of him. It was something he'd paid close attention to when he'd learned about determination--and he'd promptly been sworn to secrecy over it.

Now, he easily could think that she was almost doing worse than before; though he had no idea how long she'd been at this or how much she'd actually cut herself. Something felt off about her, around her...

"Alright, I know you have questions." Frisk spoke gently, but just loud enough for him to hear. He froze in place. Figuratively, of course.

He hadn't made a sound, how could she possibly have...?

"No...no," she said, "There's no such thing as a stupid question. And you can stop apologizing."

He heard a different voice. 

"What's the bone zone?"

That was **the** voice. That was the blue eye, sweating, no mercy, bad time voice. 

He reacted without even thinking and teleported directly in front of the sofa. 

Frisk scrambled over the back of the couch at the sight of him. "Sans! Don't just appear like that!" 

"Y o u h a v e s o m e e x p l a i n i n g t o d o." 

"H-he's going to do it this time, isn't he?" 

Sans reached out, moving the sofa aside and taking Frisk's soul in an iron grip. "W h o ' s t h e r e?" 

"Just promise me you won't hurt them! Please!" She begged. 

"T h e m . . . ?"


	8. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk finally reveals what's been going on to Sans, who can barely believe what he's hearing.

### Children

Sans relaxed but did not relinquish his grip on her soul.

"Promise me you won't hurt them. They've done nothing wrong. They can't help it."

"You'd better start talking, and fast. Or bring them out, I don't care which." He wasn't sure what to think, frankly, but he wasn't about to let his guard down in any sense of the word. No, that was the surest way for something bad to happen, and he didn't plan on things going anywhere close to where they did the last time.

He couldn't go through that again.

Frisk stood in obvious discomfort, and put her arms down, out a little ways from her body. Two hearts, one red and one white, appeared beneath them. Slowly, around them, two almost spectral, translucent bodies began to appear. Their faces were half-hidden against her side, and on sight of Sans, the red hearted soul moved behind her.

A shadow flashed over Sans as he watched the souls' forms get clearer, but never fully solid.

"H-hi."

"...Prince Asriel?" It was out before he could stop it. But then his thought went to the other soul. "Then that means--!"

"D-don't hurt me. Please. Please don't hurt me." The little male voice was frightened beyond reason; it reminded Sans a lot of how Frisk had sounded when he'd defeated her. But how...what...why?

"I won't let him," Frisk said, "It's okay...it's alright, Chara." Then she looked up.

"Explain," Sans demanded. "Now."

"They're...they're attached to it," she answered, "It has their souls. It's not their fault--it got them during that whole debacle where Asriel died. I've been trying to separate them from it, but...it hasn't gone well."

"I-it's my fault," said Chara from behind her, "I-I wanted...I...I wanted a family...a-a-and..."

"It's okay." Asriel spoke this time, "You're a kid. How're you supposed to know?"

"You sold your soul to get a family?" Sans asked. He was incredulous. And suddenly, it all made sense. The whimpering when Frisk had been cutting herself. The lullabies she'd been singing. Why she'd stayed away from most of them once she got old enough...everything just went from being confusing and murky to absolutely crystal clear. He looked up to Frisk. She'd taken all of this on, even after nearly having the demon ruin everything. She was either very brave or very foolish. And then there was that other little issue... "What have you been doing to separate them?"

"I've tried doing it myself. I don't have the magic. I tried talking to Alphys, but we're still trying to come up with a solution. Machines and determination can only go so far."

Again, it amazed him. She was fighting a _demon_ and still came back to worry about him? 

"Kid, you've been around Toriel too often," He said, laughing weakly, "You don't have to save the world." 

"Who else could've done it?" she asked, smiling down at the two boys, "It was either take that thing on or let them suffer." 

"You can't go on like this," he said. "Look, kid, I don't want to have to fight you again." 

"...again?" 

"You really don't remember, do you?" Sans asked. He saw Chara duck behind Frisk, and added, "But you do, don't you?" 

Chara quailed. "Sh...I....w-we...kept coming back u-until you...until you beat it down..." 

"What are you talking about?" Frisk asked, "You never told me about that." 

"It'd hurt you more," he said, "B-but...well...it controlled us. Made us...kill...a...a lot of monsters. Papyrus...Undyne..." 

"No." 

"M...M....Toriel..." 

"No. I'd...I'd remember." 

"We wanted to help," Asriel said suddenly, "We thought it might be hard to fight it, if you remembered." 

"Just...take it easy, everyone, alright," Sans said, "Sit down, you're just...racing right by me with all this." He moved the sofa back, and shook his head as he sank onto it. "Kid, you can't keep this up by yourself." 

"I could say the same thing to you," Frisk replied. She then looked back down at Asriel and Chara. "Alright, boys, back in you go." 

Asriel went without resistance, but Chara clung as best his ghostly form could to her hand. "I don't want to go back in." 

"It's okay. I'll sing you one of the lullabies later, and give you one of your favorite stories before I go to sleep too. Alright?" 

He was shaking, but began to disappear--but he clung to her until the last. 

Once he was gone Frisk took a seat beside Sans. "Now...I believe I was about to say 'I was going to say the same to you.' Sans..." 

"Don't tell me you won't let me face it alone when you're the one with an actual demon on your back. Your plate is overflowing, kid. It was overflowing when you wandered into Snowdin--" 

"Is it true, what they said?" 

"Look--" 

"Is it true?" 

He sighed. "Yeah. It is. You came into Snowdin, walking in with dust all over your hands and...well..." 

"Toriel? Papyrus? Undyne?" 

"Yeah. Even Mettaton. You blazed through all of them. Papyrus...he tried to...he thought if he could just talk to you...that he could convince you. But it...it wasn't enough." 

"And it stopped with you?" 

He took a deep and ragged breath. "I was the last line of defense. I couldn't afford not to do something. When I beat you, though..." He looked down at his bony hands at that. Wait... 

"What did you do?" 

He looked back up. "You gave it back, didn't you." 

"What?" 

"I...I gave you a bit...I mean, I--" 

"What did you give me?" Frisk asked, more confused than anything. 

"I gave you a...chunk of my determination." 

"Why did you do that, Sans? Don't you know how important it is?" 

"Somebody had to do it. You didn't have enough to do this on your own." 

"I didn't think there were ways to do that that didn't involve lab equipment." 

"Yeah, well, I had a mentor...you could say he taught me how to do it. Back on the subject, though, I gave you that, and then--" 

"And then you just let the depression have you?" 

"Kid, who needed a funny trashbag like me around? As far as I knew, everyone was doing fine without me. Sans, the lazybones. Sans, the guy who doesn't do anything but loaf around." He sighed and looked away. "Sans, the one with no further use." 

"I never thought that about you. I knew you were a hero, I just...I just didn't know why." She hugged him tightly; awkwardly, he returned the gesture. 

There was a pause. 

"Are you going to be okay, kid?" 

"I'll be fine, but all this excitement's got me all tuckered out. I'm going to go to bed." 

"In the morning," he said, "We're going to have a long talk about this and figure out what's going to happen next. You should've told me about this earlier." 

"I know, I know." Frisk sighed. "I guess in a way I knew you could help? Or maybe I really was just that worried about you. I heard about that last accident, and...I didn't want to lose you." 

"Goodnight, kid." 

* * *

Papyrus slept through all of that, of course, and in the morning was up before everyone else as well. Sans headed into the kitchen for his morning infusion of ketchup, and noticed him cooking eggs. 

"Sans!" 

"Yeah, Pap?" 

"Go wake the human, would you?" 

"She's got a name, y'know." 

"Yes, well...you don't call her by her name either. Just go wake her up, alright?" 

Shaking his head, Sans obeyed, heading towards Frisk's bedroom as he took a few swigs from the bottle. He knocked on her bedroom door. 

No answer. 

He knocked again. Still nothing. 

Finally, he opened the door and felt a stab of panic. 

She wasn't there. Worse, the room was an utter mess. How had Pap--how had _HE_ \--slept through that? The bedsheets were pushed aside, the window was pushed open, her digital photo frame was knocked over and the contents of her purse were scattered all over the floor, among other things. 

Sans took a step and stumbled--he'd tripped after stepping into the space under a removed floorboard. There was only a slip of paper inside it, which he bent down to pick up. 

His eye burst into full blue as he read the two words on it: 

_**I win.** _


	9. FRACTIONS

### FRACTIONS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATION:
> 
> THE WHOLE AND ITS PARTS CANNOT EXIST IN THE SAME SPACE UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES.
> 
> THE WHOLE WOULD STRENGTHEN, WHILE THE PARTS WOULD VANISH. AND TO DEPRIVE THE PARTS OF EXISTENCE SO THAT THE WHOLE MAY LIVE WOULD BE...UNETHICAL.
> 
> RECENTLY, HOWEVER, I HAVE COME TO DISCOVER THE "UNUSUAL" CIRCUMSTANCES BY WHICH WHOLE AND PARTS MAY COEXIST.
> 
> THE SOUL MUST, ONCE MORE, SERVE ME.


	10. Petal Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seventh human has arrived.

### Petal Dance

* **Entry 2-14** * 

Growth is progressing as normal, judging by the outlines the book provided us. 

This may yet work. 

* **Entry 2-20** * 

The experiment is a success. 

* **Entry 2-21** * 

(REDACTED). 

I've instructed the others to say nothing of this to King Asgore. 

I don't know what else to do. 

* * *

"You're new to the underground, aren'tcha?" 

"No. I'm not. Cut the bullshit, Flowey." Frisk groaned and rubbed her leg. That seemed to hurt more every time...but at least she'd gotten a flowerpot this time. "I've figured it out." 

"Figured _what_ out?" 

"How to get you your body back." 

"My soul is chained to that _thing_ that has Chara, or did you forget? There is no getting my body back. And that...that...stupid trashbag won't let me take someone else's!" 

"Simmer down." Frisk took out the flowerpot and started to fill it with dirt. "I know someone who can help." 

"If Toriel can't help--" Flowey stopped suddenly and looked up, incredulous, at Frisk. "It's not Sans, is it?" 

"No." 

"It can't be Papyrus." 

"Nope. You get one more guess." 

"The lizard girl?" 

"No," Frisk said, "Come on. Get in the pot." 

"Fine. But you're not finding anything that I haven't already tried to find. There's nothing left." Flowey grumbled and pulled himself out of the ground, then clambered into the pot and set his roots down into it. 

"I think you're going to be surprised at how much more I know than you. I'm making you a promise, Flowey. This is the last reset." 

There were footsteps. 

Flowey stiffened, and closed his petals. 

"Oh! A human!" 

Frisk gave Flowey a (hopefully) reassuring pat and looked up as Toriel came into view. 

Time to play the part again. 

Just once more. 

"Wh-who are you?" she stumbled back. "Are you a monster?" 

"Yes and no, my child. I am a monster, but I will not hurt you. Are you alright?" 

"I...I fell." Frisk looked up, "My leg hurts." 

"Can you walk?" 

"I think so." 

"I will lead you by the hand anyway," she said, "So if you begin to stumble, I can help you up. Is that okay with you?" 

Frisk nodded, and took her hand. The flowerpot was shifted to her right arm. 

The first few puzzles were the same. Toriel left, right on time. There was the call asking whether the preference was butterscotch or cinnamon, right on time. 

Getting to the house was no problem either, although Flowey remained closed until they were alone. 

Frisk lay down on the bed and took a deep breath. 

"You're still sure you're going to be able to solve all this?" 

"I am," Frisk replied, "The barrier makes it easier." 

"It does?" Vines extended up and over the edge of the bed, and the flowerpot was dragged up with Flowey. "It hurts, doesn't it." 

"Not really." she smiled. "It's more like...in the background, on this side of the barrier." 

"Oh." There was a pause. "Tell me your plan." 

She'd tried to get him to come out...but it wasn't worth arguing. 

Frisk sighed, and scooted under the blankets. She could understand his wanting to know, seeing how long he'd been dealing with all this. "I went poking through some of the files in Alphys's new lab. You know how I told you that I was trying to get the souls all separated?" 

"You said you weren't succeeding." 

"I found some files from the computers and all she had set up. From the old lab...you know, where you were...um, born." 

"And what was in them?" 

"Aside from a lot of notes about Sans and the abandonment of the determination project--you know, with the extractor and infusions and all that?--I found some older stuff, from the scientist before Alphys--" 

_Thunk_. 

Flowey had tried to retreat into the dirt of the flowerpot, and hit the bottom almost instantly. He'd barely lost a couple inches of height from the attempt. "Son of a--Frisk, you're crazy! You can't trust him!" 

"I can for this." 

"His mind has to be all kinds of scrambled. Worse than me." Flowey crossed his leaves. "And that's saying something. You're being a child." 

"Child? How?" 

"Is this--look. Look at me, Frisk. You're too naive for your own good. I know you take 'you can't save me' as a challenge, and it might have worked in the past. It's coming to a point where--" 

"Coming to a point where what? It's going to hurt me?" Frisk sighed and tried to get comfortable. "For the last time, Flowey. This is going to work. You need to be nearby when this happens.You won't have to hide anymore. You'll have a home." 

Home sounded nice. 

"Now go to sleep. There'll be pie on the floor when we wake up." 

"You aren't getting any of it." 

"Mhm." 

"I mean it. I'll eat ALL of it." 

"If that's what you want." 

_Like old times_ , she could feel Chara thinking. 

_You'll be able to do it all you want soon_ , Frisk thought back. 

Soon.


End file.
